


The Prince and The Stranger

by Irisyame



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Bottom Erwin Week 2019, Day 1: Reunion/Reincarnation, M/M, Reincarnation AU, Reunions, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 11:18:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19172203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irisyame/pseuds/Irisyame
Summary: "And then suddenly one day, he notices the stranger staring at him. A short, slim man who is quietly gazing at him from a secure post amongst the people passing by.He feels the coldness of that stare as the stranger takes his time to scan every detail out of him, a shiver running through his body as the distant look goes over him from head to toe.The stranger examines him attentively.[..]"A prince", the stranger thinks, and the other man can swear he could see the glimpse of a smile in those sharp, grey eyes. He is approaching the place where the stranger stands, but he can’t talk, just wonder, as he waits for the bus that’ll take him back home. Has the stranger always been there? Has he seen him before? When did he appear? The prince can’t tell. Yet, one thing is certain.From that day on, he never misses the stranger among the crowd."





	The Prince and The Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! 
> 
> It's my first Bottom Erwin week since I joined the eruri fandom and I didn't want to miss it.  
> I'm late for the prompt of the first day: Reincarnation. I'm a sucker for this kind of stories, so I wanted to give a try. 
> 
> Hope you can enjoy it and thanks in advance for reading!
> 
> You can also find me in twitter as @PameCal and in my tumblr, https://irisyame.tumblr.com

And then suddenly one day, he notices the stranger staring at him. A short, slim man who is quietly gazing at him from a secure post amongst the people passing by.

He feels the coldness of that stare as the stranger takes his time to scan every detail out of him, a shiver running through his body as the distant look goes over him from head to toe.

The stranger examines him attentively.

Squared chin, bushy eyebrows, prominent nose. Long, strong legs, broad shoulders. He’s a tall, proud man and his stance, among that common, shadowy people, is that of a prince. Crowned with bright, blond hair. And the jewels of the crown: two deep, intense blue eyes.

 _Yes, a prince_ , the stranger thinks, and the other man can swear he could see the glimpse of a smile in those sharp, grey eyes. He is approaching the place where the stranger stands, but he can’t talk, just wonder, as he waits for the bus that’ll take him back home. Has the stranger always been there? Has he seen him before? When did he appear? The prince can’t tell. Yet, one thing is certain.

From that day on, he never misses the stranger among the crowd.

Every evening when the clock hits six, and the day has already gone dark, the stranger is waiting serenely. He barely stands out, for he’s quite shorter than your average person, and still, the moonlight always finds its way towards him, making his raven hair and pale skin shine in the eyes of the prince.

The stranger never shows emotion on his face, always stern and collected, nonchalantly waiting for the bus to take him to some other place where the prince can’t see him any longer.

The prince never lets emotion overtake his handsome features either, but, if he had to be sincere, emotions overflow him when his in the presence of the stranger. It’s not happiness or sadness, it couldn’t be as simple. It isn’t longing either, it is not regret. Sometimes he believes it is familiarity, but he discards it. Relief, impatience, caution. Maybe it’s just the sheer curiosity of it all, being so fixated to some mysterious presence.

But when the prince can’t see the stranger any longer, he forgets.

Several weeks go by in which gold and silver continue their silent ritual. Sapphire and plated gazes that pierce the distance yet let it remain untouched. Always so sure, always wondering.

Until suddenly one day, the stranger isn’t there anymore. The prince fears he might have been gone for several days before he even realised. That’s why today, the day it finally dawns into him, he doesn’t feel like immediately going back home. So, he starts walking his way. Strolling, wandering, maybe even looking for him.

So perhaps it shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise when the stranger appears in front of him, right beside the next corner, and kisses him.

But it is.

Even though the prince thinks of resisting, the familiarity takes over him and forbids him from doing anything but responding. He feels a connection; something titillating inside him, dangerously near to his heart. The stranger eyes are closed as he remembers their once cold metallic stare. However, the stranger’s lips against him are warm and welcoming. So, he closes his eyes all the same. The prince wants to be confused, bewildered, disgusted— instead he just lets the new-born hunger in him lead the way.

That way leads them to the stranger’s place.

Leaning in turns against the wall, their kisses continue as they advance towards the bedroom. The prince presses his body gently against the stranger. He tastes so good, smells even better. Then, he neglects his lips to trail down his neck, taking in his scent as he leaves, in exchange, passionate kisses and soft bites. The shorter man gasps in response before clinging onto the neck of his prince. With one swift jump, the blond takes him in his arms.

Dissonant pants guide the rhythm as they unbutton and unbuckle what little distance remains between them. As soon as they’re free, their hands are all over their bodies, claiming and exploring toned muscle, smooth skin, sensitive spots and hard desire.

The prince is surprised when he lets himself spread over the bed. When he does, he wants nothing but to surrender to the stranger.

He has no idea who he is.

Yet.

He knows he wants to be his.

He lays calmly and offers his body with a simple, yet intense, look from his sapphire eyes. The stranger stands, glazing at him, but this time he’s not cool. He’s truly swayed by what he’s seeing; each bit of the big, beautiful man, all for him. At last.

The stranger trembles as he collects what’s needed from the nightstand, and trembles as he positions himself over the taller man’s body. He trembles in anticipation, and trembles when the prince takes him from the small of his back to pull him closer, so their bare chests are touching and burning and melting, as they melt once again in a deep kiss, all tongue and wetness.

It feels so right when the fingers of the stranger, shyly at first, then confident, start unwinding him. As if he’s the one who needs to be discovered, not this strange man who decided it was time to burst into the prince’s life and slowly wreck it.

The taller man quietly moans with each new intrusive movement towards his insides. The stranger watches him attentively, moaning softly in response to his prince’s pleasure. Enjoying his enjoyment. As much as the prince would like to close his eyes and lose himself to the sensation, he forces them open, not to lose the intimate connection.  

When he stranger finally slides inside him, time stops. All precious moments are collected in this particular instant of their existences. The prince shuts his eyes and hisses, making the stranger worry. But his face relaxes, and all precious moments are unleashed to start once again. The stranger groans and starts moving.

The prince embraces the stranger dearly as he thrusts. The stretch, the tightness, the speed, everything. All feels so good. As if it’s something he’s yearned and dreamed from centuries ago. And although the stranger feels so small in his arms, his movements are strong, precise, every inch as pleasant. Who the hell is this man, so hot and hard inside him, to whom he offers not only his body, but his heart? What’s even more amazing to him, is how for everything the stranger takes, he gives in return.

The taller man shifts his body to find some leverage so he can join the rhythm of the stranger. When he does, he starts thrusting gracefully back at him. As their hips clash in a heated spiral, the stranger talks for the first time.

“Yes.” He cries, clinging tighter to the prince’s body. “Fuck, yes.”

His voice is sincere and loud and guttural and somehow those cursed words sound so beautiful in the prince ears. He would like to hear more, much more.

Their pace quickens when their climax starts approaching. While the prince grips to one of the stranger’s firm thighs, the smaller man’s hand goes south looking for the royal sceptre. And he speaks again.

“Shit, you’re so big.”

The taller man chuckles, his voice as tender as the stranger remembers. He redoubles his efforts so that the masculine, intimate voice moans for his ears only. And he succeeds.

“Yes!” the prince mumbles amidst musical moans “Just like that.”

All the energy their motioning bodies are bringing forth gathers in the prince stomach and, indeed just like that, is expelled as waves of pleasure throughout his limbs, making him go light-headed, limp and empty.

The stranger follows, his body tensing for a few seconds before releasing with a loud groan in blasts of steady, enchanting pleasure. And as he lets himself crumble over his handsome prince, he speaks for the third time, a song of release and ease in his voice. “Erwin.”

“What did you say?” The blond can swear he hears his name spoken from the stranger lips. The shorter man stiffens and breaks their closeness rapidly, with the excuse of cleaning up. The prince sits on the bed and, again, finds himself wondering.

Then the shorter man is back in the room as if nothing has happened. The prince decides he’d rather pretend. He starts to look for his scattered clothing, but the stranger stops him.

“You can stay. If you want.”

The blond nods dumbfoundedly and watches the other man as he, still naked and self-conscious, curls under the blankets. As the prince follows, he dares not say a word, for he might break the man’s mystery spell. He stares at the smaller, paler shoulders beside him and, since the yearning for proximity in his heart is still lingering there, he ventures to hug him.

The stranger replies with a soft, approving hum. While he does not look back, he searches for the prince’s hand and their fingers entwin.

Once again, the prince is overwhelmed by the feelings; those that the stranger wakes up in him. Fear and restlessness, as if he could lose something he isn’t even aware he possesses. Sorrow, a nostalgic feeling both warming and alarming, that tells him there’s something he doesn’t remember. And the inexplicable connection with this unexpected man ringing in his ears and piercing his heart.

And yet, the stranger seems his calm and collected self again. For he speaks no other word that night, and his breath slowly paces as he drifts to sleep.

The prince buries his face in the stranger’s hair, letting his scent drown him. As he loses consciousness, he decides that’s the only answer he now needs.

 

* * *

 

 

The morning is bright and light, as the prince’s smile, when he wakes up.

The stranger isn’t there anymore, but it couldn’t have been a dream, for his warmth still lingers, and the bed in which he’s resting isn’t his.

He turns over to let himself rest on his back, eyes staring at nothing, mind blank. He hears sounds in the distance, in a room nearby. A few moments later, steps are approaching the bedroom.

The stranger appears, his grey eyes neutral, holding a tray with a couple of cups. He seems surprised when he notices the prince has awaken, but fights to appear impassive.

“I thought you may want breakfast” he explains.

The prince feels thankful as he receives one cup. A familiar aroma emanates from it.

“Black tea.” He comments, and the stranger nods. The scent is soothing and heavy in his chest. It combines with that of the stranger and, when he talks next, he swears the words aren’t his, but someone else’s. “It’s always been your favourite.”

The stranger grips tenses around the tray in fear he might drop it. His narrow eyes go wide, very wide, and threaten to water.

The blonde feels like a veil is falling from his eyes, a weight, falling from his chest, his only wing spreading wide across his back. He crawls hesitantly towards the edge of the bed to face the stranger eye to eye. The other man seems completely incapable of uttering another word, his glazed eyes menacing to break. Yet, on his back, a similar, blueish wing is also getting ready to fly.

The warm, broad hands of the prince cup the delicate face and his luminous blue eyes can finally see. Really, thoroughly see into the soul of the stranger in front of him. And he gives him a name.

“Levi.”

And with such magic word, the spell is broken.

Tears begin to fall ceaselessly. The tray and the cups fall, as they couldn’t care less. The only water that matters now is that which is cascading from their eyes, and the current that is violently running its course again as they are locked in the tightest embrace they’ve ever experienced. In this life.

“Levi.” The prince repeats, not believing he’s forgotten that name for so long.

Levi is coming undone in his arms. “Erwin. Erwin. Erwin!” he cries. “I’ve missed you so fucking much” he manages to say.

“It’s alright now” Erwin tries to comfort him, but he can’t stop crying either.

“Erwin, I…” Levi breaks the embrace so he can look him straight in the eye again. “I was so in love with you. I never dare tell you, but—“ he chokes. However, as he sees Erwin’s expression, right there with him, the tears begin to cease. “I think… I still am.”

Erwin smiles between tears. “I know” he assures, as he caresses his cheeks. “I could tell, last night.”

Levi blushes.

“And I knew before as well. A lifetime ago, I mean.”

“You did?”

“Yes. Because I, too, was a coward. But I loved you, too. So much” the blonde’s voice breaks. “So much, Levi, but I couldn’t tell you” he cries. And they slowly approach into a desperate, sincere kiss.

“I’m so ashamed I didn’t recognise you that first day on the street” Erwin continues, murmuring against Levi’s lips.

“No, don’t be” Levi replies. “It took me a while to figure it out, too.” Erwin nods in understanding. “Had it dawned to me before, I would have been all over you sooner.” The blonde laughs loudly. “God, you’re still so fucking beautiful, it’s disgusting.”

“You still seem to be the Levi I remember” Erwin admits.

They fall back over the bedroom in a soft embrace, careful to avoid the places were the tea has spilled. They stay silent, just feeling each other, reminiscing what they could remember, getting to know sensations they’d never got to experience together before.

“There are some new things, though.” The stranger finally speaks, but he’s Levi.

“Hm?” The prince is curious, but he’s Erwin.

“There are new things to me, I think. Now that I’m reborn.”

“I’d really like to know the Levi you are now, then, if you’ll have me.”

The shorter man is staring at him and nods shyly.

“I’d also like to know” the blonde declares solemnly “how much more I could get to love you.”

“Gross.” Levi smirks. “I see some things are still the same.”

“Yeah, I think they are.” Erwin agrees.

And they kiss again, as they never have before.

 


End file.
